Oh Crap!

Sometimes life just throws you a curve…

Friday, February 19, 2016…

I head off to work as usual.  I checked the Gweduc hotline and the Ruby Anne 2 is going out to harvest on the south Anderson island tract.  I left the house as usual and decided to grab a mocha (out of character) on the way to the marina.  Stopped at one of my favorite stands (corner of south bay road and Lilly) and got my 16oz double white chocolate mocha.  What a nice change, good flavor and I savor a couple of sips on the way to Zittells.

Everything is going well and normal for a typical day of gweduc monitoring. At about 0645 I pull up next to the office and sit there a second.  Enjoying another taste of my coffee.

All of a sudden I start sweating….. not your little, gee I’m warm kind of sweat.  This is the “I just ran 5 miles with a 50 pound pack” kind of sweat.  It’s so prolific that as I look down at my lap, the water is running off my nose, eyebrows and chin.  It fills my glasses and is standing in the seat of the beast.

And damn… all the joints in my arms feel like they are on fire.  My whole jaw feels like it was punched by a prize fighter.  Everything is just kind of throbbing. Holy crap, this is crazy!  It has to pass, I have to leave the dock soon to provide safety monitor for the harvest boat.  Gotta get my butt out on the water. But, gee this just doesn’t feel right, now a little light headed, just probably not good to go, gonna have to call my work partner and let him know.

I assess the situation…. Let’s see:  both parents have a history of cardiac issues.  I have heavy diaphoresis. Pain in jaw and arms. Shortness of breath.  I am almost 52 years of age.  I have been a smoker for 20 years.  Type 2 diabetes…. Yeah it all sounds like it adds up to one thing…

Denial and stubborn attitude kicks in.  I’m sure it’s probably just the flu or bad pizza the night before (yea right…) I have very limited cell service at the marina so I head up the hill in the Beast into service.

I send messages to my coworkers letting them know that they need to cover my job.  I point the Beast south on Johnson Point road, it’s only 15 minutes to St. Peter hospital.  I call R.P. at home and tell her what’s up and to meet me there.

I pull into the emergency room lot and park (I don’t really remember the entire drive).  Walk up to the reception desk and when asked what they can help with I say “I believe I am having a cardiac event”.  This is a term used by the medical field, not the average lay person.  The triage nurse sitting there looks at my uniform,  my obviously sweating pale face and hustles me in the back where they hook me up to a 12 lead EKG that shows absolutely nothing. They draw lab work that comes back with no indications of anything.  E.R. doc gives me a couple nitroglycerin pills and pain reduces. Hook up a nitro i.v. drip and it goes away. E.R. doc says he definitely feels that I have had a cardiac event. The internal medicine (hospitalist) says he feels it’s definitely been a cardiac event.  They do a full chest x-ray that comes back completely clear.  

Concensus from the doctors:  admit me to the hospital and do lots of labs.  Result:  admitted to the observation unit, cardiac protocols and blood draws every 3 hours.  Conclusion:  cardiac enzymes show that I did indeed have a myocardial infarction. Hospitalist says we need to do cardiac ultrasound and possibly stress test.

Enter the cardiac physician Dr. Robert Wark.  Asks questions, reviews labs, looks like the oracle when he says:  cardiac catheterization lab procedure to definitively diagnose and treat.  He schedules me for first tee time at 0900 next day (Saturday).  Lots more labs through night, vitals every 2 hours.  R.P. got here early and I decide it’s time to let the rest of the family know what’s up.  Calls and text messages to everyone just before the cath lab team arrives to bundle me up.  My nurse gives me a couple Valium for anxiety.

Off to the cath lab where they shave my arm  and groin (for just in case back up site) for the angiography site.  Cath lab staff says that I’ll be awake for the procedure and be able to watch the screens.  Then they give me some versed and fentanyl via i.v.  I remember nothing of the procedure and my next cognizant memory is of R.P. and sister in law Alice in my room somewhere around noon.  Nada, zip, zilch….. I have zero recollection from the time I laid on the cath table to now.  R.P. says there are many funny stories of things I said and did.  I have no memory of any of it and there are no photographs 3xcept the black and whites of my angiogram. 

Then for the rest of the day, a steady stream of family coming in to visit. Brother Bill and Anne, Sister Janet, Dad, Mom and later in the evening, Andy, Tiff, Logan and Gavin.  R.P. says that nephew Bill came by while I was in the cath lab.

I spent the rest of the day snoozing and visiting and writing.  Different pain in chest from the doctor rooting around in my heart, some painkillers and then a sleeping pill for bedtime.  As long as I don’t die in the night I’ll get to go home tomorrow.

Conclusion:  Dr. Wark started off with the angiogram, proceeded to do a plasty and install a 15mm long Stent in my right coronary artery.  Reason? It was 95% blocked.  Says I’ll feel great once everything settles down.  Going home tomorrow with some new meds.

Sunday am……  Nursing shift change, R.P. arrives with some good coffee!  I don’t see Dr. Wark but the hospitalist, Dr. Alhafez comes by and gives me discharge orders.  Go home, bunch of new medications, take it easy till I have an echocardiogram in a week and then see Dr. Wark in a couple weeks.

Home by noon.  R.P. drops me off and I decide a nap is in order.  Truly don’t know how much or little sleep I’ve had since Friday.  Can’t really fathom all  that’s taken place in the last 48 hours.  What a whirlwind ride it’s been.  I nap for 3 hours.  R.P. came home with my new meds and then we settle down for a quiet night, catch up on a couple of out TV shows and head for bed.

I am finishing this as I sit here on the couch after R.P. has gone to bed and is sleeping soundly above me.  My routine and internal clock is pretty skewed from the hospital routine of labs and vitals and loud noises and bright lights all night.  Besides, my chest hurts…Dr. Wark and the nurses all agreed that I would have pain from the roto rooter routine and they were right.  My right arm doesn’t hurt but my right shoulder and the center of my chest are pretty uncomfortable.

Aftermath:  In retrospect I think I have had a couple incidents in the last few months that obviously weren’t as bad as this.  I’ve had a couple sweating episodes and have been short of breath lately but have just written them off as being out of shape.  It’s probably a good thing that I finally accepted the possibility of a heart attack as I very well could have been the emergency on the water that day.

To the staff at Providence St. Peter hospital of Olympia:  Thank You for your care and diligence.  Robert Martin, it was nice to see an old friend still there caring for us.  Dr. Gilday, well done in pursuing the case and keeping a glib, man full of bravado (scared to death) informed all the way.  Hospitalist Dr. Alhafez, thanks for your care and concern.  

A very special mention and huge THANK YOU to my day shift nurse in the COU! Tara (never did get her last name) was the true font of information. Yeah, I know she does this for a living, and it was probably routine for her but….  she answered all our questions,  no matter how probing.  She allayed fears, gave care, held my hand, interacted with R.P. and I.  She gave us the most detailed information that we received during my stay.  She continually made sure that we were updated on labs and orders and what the care plan was to be, we were never left out of the loop on anything while she was on duty.  Tara truly embodies the definition of nursing.

To my boss and coworkers: thanks for your understanding and support.
This is the BFD and I’ll be back soon.